


How Simon Learned to Stop Worrying and Come out (of the Basement)

by InsominiacArrest



Category: Shadowhunters (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Humor, M/M, Smut, Vampire Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-06
Updated: 2016-04-06
Packaged: 2018-05-31 13:37:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6472051
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsominiacArrest/pseuds/InsominiacArrest
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After becoming a vampire Simon gives up on the outside world and decides to spend his eternity with his favorite movies in the basement of the vamp hideout, Raphael interrupts him now and then</p>
            </blockquote>





	How Simon Learned to Stop Worrying and Come out (of the Basement)

_And who can recite every line from... from every Nicolas Cage movie _-_ _ Bad Blood, Episode 8

_The First Week_

“You can’t just watch movies for the rest of your undead life, which, by the way, is going to be very long.”  
  
"Don't remind me." Simon hugged a pillow to his chest and stared off into space, “And I can and, in fact,” he puts his finger in the air, “I will.”

He can feel Raphael rolling his eyes at him, or at least looking at the ceiling like he’s waiting to be taken away from all this.

“I’ve brought you your ration.” He throws a little plastic-sealed bag of blood at him, Simon wrinkles his nose at it as it lands next to him on the couch. “I can’t have you starve.”

Simon shakes his head at it, “I’m sorry, but I have exactly 5 more Nicolas Cage movies to get through, and then maybe I’ll consider going all, you know,” he waves his hand in the air. "Blood hungry demon beast."

Raphael surprisingly doesn’t leave with an airy ‘suit yourself fledgling’ or exasperated silence, he just sits down next to him. Simon takes a sharp intake of breath but keeps his eyes on the Cage-man.

“I also need to talk to you about contributing to the clan.” He says pointedly, “however impressive your ability to watch movies is, you are part of something larger. That demands dues.”

“This is the part where he realizes that he is actually now Ghost Rider, and his head can become a skull, a skull that is also on fire. A fire skull.”  
  
Raphael sighs at him, “fine.”  
  
“Fine what?”  
  
“I’ll indulge you if you only hear me out. I’m not into forcing my followers to,” he quirks a grin, “follow.”

“Aren’t you my king or something?” Simon finally looks over at him directly and Raphael taps his fingers on his leg rapidly.

“I am your king, but I am not Camille.”

“Well. That’s fine, but it’s really not going to stop me from watching movies for the rest of eternity.” Raphael falls into a stiff silence and Simon fidgets from side to side, he didn’t like silence, “what do you want me to do for you anyway? Get a vampire job? Like hauling blood, or,” he searches the air, “bat-caregiver, can we turn into bats? Is that a thing?”

“Sure. Why not.” Raphael answers in a monotone as he stares at his nails.

“Can _you_?”  
  
He clicks his tongue, “Do you want me to turn into a bat, Simon?”  
  
Simon wrenches his eyes away from Cages chiseled jaw, “I kind of do now, yeah.”  
  
Raphael whacks him in the back of the head, “I can’t turn into a goddamn bat Simon, drink your blood.”

Simon feels his Adam's apple bob, he had been smothering his hunger in this throw pillow and hours upon hours of the flashing television screen.

“Or do I have to feed it to you?” he asks and it sounded like a threat, Simon reaches for the blood and Raphael nods approvingly. “Good boy.”

Simon scowls at him and sticks one pointed fang into the parcel, he laps it up greedily as the liquid runs down his fingers and wrist, Raphael watches carefully.

Simon makes a face halfway through, “what happened to the little crystal glasses and tomato-y aftertaste... Couldn’t we make this into a key lime pie or something?”  
  
“That would taste disgusting, trust me.” Raphael says as he flicks dust off his jacket, “and flavored blood is for those underlings that deliver.” He expresses pointedly.

“And what’s that? You never even answered my last question,”

Raphael sighs, “some humans are turned for specific purposes, and then become that in the vampire world. Soldiers, grunts, diplomats,” he shrugs, “so on.”

That catches Simon's attention, “I wasn’t turned for any reason though. Was I?” He blinks back at the empty-faced Raphael. " _Was I?_ "  
  
“Well, the method and the circumstances Camille turned you under…” He trails off with a smug grin.

“What? Tell me, oh my God you can’t just end like that,” Simon almost throws his pillow at him.

“She most likely would have kept you as a sex slave.” He looks him up and down, “she’s was very fond of you in that way.”  
  
Simon backs up fully to the corner of the couch and draws his legs up as a shield between him and the other man, “but she’s gone!” He cries shrilly, “woo, she is, gone, ya’ know?”  
  
“I do know. And frankly I find you far more annoying than she did.” He looks off into space, bored, eyes hazily focusing on the screen. “What is this man doing? Why does he have a whip?”

“Oh my God, I have to tell you about Ghost Rider,” Raphael gives him an absolute zero look of ‘not amused,’ Simon frowns again, “or not..”

“I expect you to contribute soon,” he pats him on the leg, “or figure out how to.”

Raphael leaves and the final screams of Ghost Rider dies out. Simon snorts and tries to ignore the tingling in his thigh where he had been touched. Goddamn vampires, goddamn leader, goddamn bloodlust.

 

_The Second Week_

“Here is your ration for the day.” Raphael descended the stairs again, like most days and approached Simon languidly. “I don’t suppose you’ve come up with something useful to do.”  
  
“I was thinking of undead tax adviser,” Simon says brightly, “everyone needs their taxes done, and I was already half way to being an accountant.” Simon proceeds to frown, he was almost there, an accountant, with a normal life and maybe even a girlfriend-- instead of just a grumpy dark-haired man who disapproved of him, and probably everything.

“We pay lawyers and accountants to do that, but I suppose.” He huffs and drops the blood off next to him before sitting on the edge of the armrest. "You could try."

“We’re watching Wicker Man today.” He smirks, “ _He hates bees._ ” He stretches out on his well-worn couch and reaches towards the ceiling.

“I finally looked up this man,” Raphael frowns at him, “I don’t understand why I catch you watching his movies almost every day.”  
  
Simon shrugs, “hey last week was Lord of the Rings for 48 hours, and then another 48 hours. And then back to Cage.”

“But,” he gestures at Cage’s blank face plastering across the screen, “this, this is not...”  
  
“Don’t hate,” Simon puts his arms up, “if I’m going to spend eternity doing something, it might as well be re-memorizing every word of National Treasure.” Raphael shakes his head.

“This is by far the strangest way I’ve found someone dealing with their transition. And Carol only drank cat blood for a month.”  
  
Simon wrinkled his nose, “first ew, and second, you wouldn’t _get_ it…” He focuses on the flashing lights of the screen in the dark room, “it’s like, I liked the Cage man before, he was a kind of goofy looking man who wasn’t good with expressing emotions. I relate. And now,” he takes a deep breath in, “he’s kind of like this rugged figure that reminds me that life could be worse. I could be trapped with a bee helmet.”  
  
“Rugged?” Raphael sounds unimpressed.

“Yeah! Rugged, I mean I didn’t think he was really that hot before, but now man, I mean I want to look like that.”  
  
“Please don't. And I don’t see your point outside of wanting to bang this gangly pale mundane.” He frowns, “whose acting is terrible.”

Simon throws a pillow at him, “get out of here man.”  
  
Raphael catches his pillow and places it nicely back down, “I would feel more ashamed of having you under my care if you ever left this room, but I suppose you don't, so enjoy your blood, and this,” he gestures to the TV loosely and leaves again.

 

_Week Four_

“So, if vampires don’t all just watch movies to keep busy, what do you do?” He asks amiably to Raphael as they sip blood cocktails out of glasses. He had gotten an upgrade.

Raphael drinks thoughtfully, “what do you think we do? Survive.”  
  
“Come one,” Simon almost kicks him, “you literally have all the time in the world, you can’t all just become grim, and then become even grimer like you.”  
  
Raphael’s dark eyes drag over him, his lips pursed, “feed. Sex. Money.” He smiles knowingly.

“Alright,” Simon nods his head approvingly, “I guess that’s what I should expect.”  
  
“Most of us.” He sighs, “some of us decided to indulge in television for weeks on end instead of acting like a real vampire.”  
  
Simon shrugs, “sorry if I’m not into your alternative lifestyle. I was taught to keep out of trouble, until, you know.”  
  
“You’re quite boring, yes.” Raphael takes a sip of his martini.

“Only when it matters.” He jokes but Raphael only gives a tiny smile in response. But it was something, “and this," he points at his teeth, "was enough excitement for forever.”  
  
“Until Clary calls on you again of course.”  
  
Simon frowns, images of her embracing Jace race through his mind, “or Nicholas Cage! I'd come when he calls.” He responds, trying to play it off.

“You must have really loved her.”  
  
“ _Do._ " He corrects, "Do love her.” Raphael gets up to leave again.

“You shouldn’t waste that feeling.”  
  
“ _You_ should bring us blood mojito's next time.” Raphael looks him over, a dour pinched look to his face, “What? Are you going to play mom-vamp and just tell me to get a job again?”

“I’m not your mom. I’m your king, and no, I don’t need you being yourself around all the other underlying. You can’t even fight." He taps on the side of his head, "You can stay down here.”  
  
He lets him continue his lifelong movie marathon.

 

_Week Five_

“That looks like it hurts.”  
  
“It doesn’t.” Raphael heaves himself into the place next to Simon on the couch, landing heavier this time, less careful, and much closer to Simon. Simon pokes at what looks like an open wound on the side of his shoulder.  
  
“Are you sure? Because that really looks like it stings.” Raphael swats his hand away as Simon reaches for the cut. “Did something happen?”  
  
“Maybe if you fought with us you’d know.” He snarls.

“Last time I offered you said I was too weak.” He whines and runs a hand through his hair, “even after I learned to say the word God and jesus, and fucking jesus, and all the blasphemies.”

“There’s more to fighting then God.” Raphael says as he looks at the ceiling and appears to be cursing someone. “I can't have you fuck things up. Anything that would go wrong would be my fault.” He laments.

Simon tilts his head at him, “Gotta hand it to you, you’re Catholic guilt is still showing and you’re undead and evil now.”  
  
Raphael growls at him, “you have a big mouth.”  
  
Simon blinks a couple times, “you see, an alive version of myself would make a joke about how ‘that’s not the only big thing about me’ but I’ve matured. I won’t even make a joke. That’s how mature I am.”  
  
Raphael shakes his head, “I don’t know why I either bother coming down here.”

“Uh, to bring me food and be updated on this week's episode of Project Runway? Sadie is winning.”

Raphael hangs his head, “there is no blood this week… Next week.” He murmurs.

“Dude, what happened?” He leans in, almost feeling the need to be closer to him and his face, falling forward like a downfall of rain.

“Nothing.” He whispered, “nothing.”  
  
Simon rests his head on Raphael’s shoulder, “tell me about it.”  
  
“No.” He huffs, “your life is simple down here. Stay that way.”

Simon frowns, “maybe...I could help,” he chuckles, “I’m still up for doing undead taxes.” Raphael reaches for his hand, and Simon lets him squeeze it.

“Sure.”

He doesn’t leave that night, his head simply lulls down and rests on Simon's shoulder, he doesn't move and lets the blood seep into his shirt from his shoulder.

 

_Week Six_

The blood was back the next week, and so was the hint of a smile on Raphael’s lips. Simon had to stop noticing that.

“The ghouls could only control the blood blank for so long.” He brags, “it was only a matter of surprise attack.”  
  
Simon could almost tell he was trying to show off, “well, as long as you're bringing bloody back, this boy will know how to act.”  
  
Raphael’s eyes say ‘help me’ in their eye sockets, “I hate you.”

“It’s a compliment!”

“Drink my blood and watch your human man.”

“Don’t have to tell me twice.” They sink into National Treasure, with of course, his own personal commentary of what went into the production and history. “Anyway, and obviously they are right about the time change bit, and hey! Don’t fall asleep on me.” He nudges him to keep the other man alert.

He blinks open his eyes rapidly and rubs his face, “I should leave.”

“No way, you’re in for the long haul. I learned to adore the Cagester even more in the afterlife, so can you.”  
  
“Look, I’m glad you’ve accepted some sort of shift in sexuality--”  
  
“What?!” Simon jumps in his chair. “I’m not, you know. He’s hot, but not that hot.” He clutches at his chair, “I have sex with women.”  
  
“Listen,” Raphael starts gently.

“Alive. Hot. Women, with blood in their veins and everything and aren’t Camille.”  
  
“Congratulations.” Raphael scratches his chin as Simon talks.  
  
“And I would keep having sex with them, with my penis in their vagina, if I didn't most likely feel the need to consume their blood and drain them of their life and then probably have brunch with the devil and punch my grandma.”  
  
“That’s what I do with my Tuesdays.” Simon laughs abruptly at that, Raphael still appears bored, “you do know you’re a vampire now?”

“No! Really?” He throws his arms in the air sarcastically, “I had almost forgot, I thought I was living in this sunlight-less basement to stop myself from eating those I love for shits and giggles, and maybe a reach around from one of the giant rats.” His eyes dart around shiftly towards a hole in the wall.

“Funny. But,” he slaps him on the thigh, “you should know, everything changes after you turn.”  
  
“I know,” he says bitterly.

“Then I’ll see again.” He waves him off and Simon touches his lips thoughtfully.

 

 _Week Seven_  
  
“So Camille turned me gay?” He says loudly as Raphael’s footsteps touch the floorboards.

“Hello to you too.”  
  
“Like, I’m not sure I believe that.”  
  
Raphael walks over to him and waves his hand around airily, “that's yours to figure out.”  
  
“What? You’re not going to send someone to help figure it out?” He says with a smile as he taps on the table anxiously, the TV wasn’t on.

Raphael eyes him, “no. I figured becoming a sex slave was not something you wanted to embrace.”  
  
Simon bounced up and down in his seat, “it’s just really freaking me out man.”

“This of all things….”  
  
“I mean it all freaks me out, but now there’s this whole new thing that is also like, ah," he screams into his hands and Raphael leans down towards him.

“Shut up.”

“No, you don’t see, like you think you know these things about yourself, and who's hot and who's not, and then you wake up and think hey, at least maybe inside you is somehow the same, but you’re not!” He was practically crying out loud, “it’s not….”

He bites his lip, “no matter how many Nicholas Cage movies you watch, you can’t go back and if you go outside it hurts, so you stay inside, and you aren’t _you_ and I want people and things, things I didn’t before or at least, I might, I have no idea,”

“Shut up.” Raphael repeats,

“But-” He presses his lips over his, they are chapped and rough, but have a type of deliberate delicateness to them.

It’s a slow, burning kiss that lasts too long and too short in the same amount of time.

Raphael pulls away first, “have you figured it out now?”  
  
Simon blinks slowly, “no." He says tipsily. "Can you do that again?”  
  
He kisses him once more like it was some sort of duty, methodical and thorough, dipping his head back this time and cradling the back of his neck, “you’re so annoying you know.” He whispers into his mouth.

"So I've been told," he chuckles and tries to kiss him, “Just keep doing what you’re doing vampire man.”  
  
He steps over the couch to straddle Simon’s lap, “don’t give me orders.” He hums.

Simon nods, “tell me what to do,” he smirks, “my liege.”  
  
He nips at his bottom lip harshly, “don’t mock me for one.” Simon whines in the back of his throat and Raphael rubs up against him, “and be thankful I’m in a good mood."  
  
“Aren’t you always?” He talks back, Raphael just pulls his head forward and presses their lips together.

“You’re mouthy...but I guess I’ve learned to put up with it.”  
  
“Hey,” he winks at him, “tolerating me. That’s the highest form of relationship I reach with people.” The older vamp sink his lips over his bottom lip,  and he moves his hips over his, Simon gasps and melts into the sharpness of his barbed mouth.

He starts to feel himself harden in his pants, the feel of hands over his waist and the friction of his jeans across his crotch was too much for him. He whimpers when Raphael pulls back. 

His eyebrows raise as he examines him, “you’ve never been bitten by a vampire before have you? Not like this.”  
  
“I wouldn’t say so, no.” He shies back and frowns, “but I remember being bitten before.”  
  
Raphael is smiling for real, “it won’t be like that. You’ll like it,” his eyebrows bounce up and down, “most people do.”  
  
“What’s it like?”

Raphael seems to pause to think, “penetrative.”  
  
“Uh,” Simon backs up and feels his face flush, “like uh, sexual sexy way penetration?” He's at a loss for words as his mouth flaps open and closed like a fish.  
  
“It won’t hurt. Not like this.” He straddles his lap and draws him closer, “It will be an honor for you actually.”  
  
“I mean, as long as you don’t fall in love with me and then write a book about it.” He tries to joke but he leans into the touch, he was somewhat touch starved from the months of denying the outside world.

“Haha,” he leans down and his voice goes low and rough, very rough, “I bet you still taste...pure.”  
  
“G-go for it then.” His voice is shaky and out of place, he stumbles over the words and he has the feeling of being naked under Raphael's steady hands.

Simon exposes his neck and flinches, ready for it to hurt.

The sharp teeth descend on him and he can tell there is a type of magic behind it, glammer or ethereal or just ‘fuck-me-up' type of stuff.

He screws his eyes shut but when the teeth extend deep inside him he’s gasping, “ah.” He lets out a breathy sound, “uh.”

An overwhelming inflammation of his senses lights up his nerve endings and pulls him into Raphael, images flash behind his eyes via some sort of eerie connection: churches, blood, the stern face of a woman cooing at him.

Simon is arching his back off the couch, into Raphael, then he is picking up a stray cat in his arms, he is being slapped across the wrist by a ruler, he is smiling into a bright sun. Then two fangs are tearing into his skin.

Simon writhes, his blood dribbling down his neck and Raphael keeping the pressure up as he ‘penetrates’ him.  
  
He is following Camille’s back, watching her long hair toss across her shoulder, her smile, her reckless bark of a laugh and the venom in her eyes he wants to suck dry.

Simon bites his lip until it splits open and then Raphael bites him harder until he is calling out, until his voice is raw and the images swirl into a void, he feels all his senses touched and invaded, lapped up and pressed against. A wet spot spills across his shorts.

Raphael pulls back and licks his lips, eyes hungrily flicking over him up and down.

Simon pants and shivers in the cool air of the downstairs, Raphael laps up the blood on his neck, Simon looks down at himself, “did I just…” He shifts in place, “I just…Came?” He just came in his boxers without anyone touching him. "Fuck."

“Clean yourself up.” Raphael tosses a nearby towel at him to dab at his bleeding neck.

 “That was...different.” He tries to articulate but comes out more as mumbling and chewing on his words like a child.

Raphael chuckles, “my first time was a lot worse. Don’t worry.”  
  
“So am I no longer a vampire virgin then?” He asks wryly as he holds the towel to his neck.

Raphael’s eyes drag over his body up and down, “maybe.” He smirks. “I’ll be back. And then we’ll see.” He turns the lights off on his way out and Simon sits in the dark in his sticky boxers and feelings he didn't want to feel.

“Fuck him…” he mutters, “why don’t you ever help me Nicholas Cage?” He says to the ceiling, it doesn’t reply.

 

_The Last Week_

Simon waits patiently for the next week to come to a close, and then he climbs the stairs one at a time to the bright slit of light under the door.  
  
“Holla at ya’ boy,” he says as he interrupts his fellows and bursts out the door, “I’m ready to vamp it up.”

Raphael spots him and his eyebrows raise expressively, he walks over, "what are you doing?"  
  
"Coming out!" He crows and then scratches the back of his neck, "Of the basement I mean."

He catches Raphael smiling again, "alright."

"Let's fight shit. Eat blood, sex and stuff." He announces as he punches the air, the room stares blankly at him.

"Let's start with paperwork." He hands him a file, "I heard an undead accountant might be able to sort out our IRS problems."  
  
Simon shrugs, "alright, better than sex slave." Raphael presses the papers to his chest and his black eyes shine in the faint light of the fluorescent lights, "or not..." Simon murmurs to himself and follows Raphael to the next table.

He tries to live a little more, it's too bright, and his legs feel heavy and Nicholas Cage isn't there. But it was a start.

**Author's Note:**

> pls do not repost (I can't believe I have to say this)


End file.
